A Bad Wife
by Twinkle-star15
Summary: A one-shot of Esme's life before the Cullens. Her story. Canon. Mature themes implied, but not explicit. CarlislexEsme. Angsty, but with a happy ending.


**A/N: This is really just a short one-shot about Esme as a person. I always feel that Esme is sidelined in most fics, and portrayed as 'just' the mother; however, the woman's story is amazing! I took some liberties with the bio for Esme on the Twilight Lexicon, but apart from that it's mostly canon. The best description of Esme I have found is in AngstGoddess003's Wide Awake- Chapter 26. If you've read the story, you know what part I mean. If you haven't- why the hell not?**

**DISCLAIMER: Twilight= not mine. Duh.**

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Everyone in this mish-mashed family knows that Edward is the son I have a particular soft spot for. They know I protect him, that I 'coddle' him, that I, maybe, love him best.

They don't know why.

Only Edward knows the reasons behind our relationship.

I don't know for certain if I ever would have told him myself. Probably, eventually.

Maybe.

He wasn't exactly flattered by certain comparisons at first, but I can't judge him for that. At least, I try not to.

Xxx

I met Carlisle first when I was sixteen. I had always been a tomboy. I never identified with the other girls in town, swooning over the local butcher boy and gossiping about their new dresses.

I played with the boys. It drove my mother to distraction, understandably. Young ladies were not supposed to prefer baseball to dolls- but I did. I rode horses without using a sidesaddle, I didn't care if my skirts tore, and I climbed trees.

That was how I broke my leg.

I was in the garden with my best friend. He was different to all the other boys. While I had played with them when we were younger, as we grew we drifted apart. They began to exclude me from their games and conversations. As children, they thought I was better than the other girls because I didn't act like them. As young adults, they thought I was weird.

But Edward didn't.

It was because of Edward Carson that I was even climbing that tree in the first place. I was teasing him because I had always been more interested in the boys' games than he had. He fired back that there was no way I'd still be able to master the tree in my garden that we all used to climb, competing to see who could get highest.

I fell in love with Carlisle from the first moment I saw him. I was in awe of this beautiful man who was intelligent, kind and compassionate. Who didn't look down on me for breaking my leg climbing a tree. Who laughed with me when I told him the story, and only scolded me for not being more careful, instead of despairing that I wasn't like all the other girls.

I didn't realise my feelings for Carlisle for what they were till I talked with Edward. Weeks later, after I found out Dr Cullen had moved and I would most likely never see him again, it was Edward who listened to me despair.

It was Edward who helped me realise why I was so devastated at the thought of never encountering that man again, why I was crushed over losing the possibility of more.

Because Edward understood my feelings too well.

Because Edward was homosexual.

It was the first time I had ever realised that a man could feel the way he was supposed to feel about a woman for a man.

I thought it was a sin. But Edward was still Edward. And if he was sinful, then what did that make me for not reviling him? I couldn't understand, so I didn't try. I just... accepted. After all, Edward had always accepted that I wasn't like other girls.

He told me he had tried to see women _that_ way, but just... couldn't. I couldn't understand that.

At least, not until my parents arranged my engagement to Charles Evanson. Just like Edward couldn't see women as attractive in _that_ way, I couldn't see Charles Evanson as an attractive man, as someone I could grow to love- and not for lack of trying.

Xxx

Talking with Edward after my change helped me much more than talking to Carlisle. I had always been in awe of Carlisle, and finding out after I became a vampire too just how much he had suffered to help others, I couldn't help but be a little intimidated by his accomplishments.

Edward wasn't intimidating. Edward was like me. Edward was the friend I missed terribly, the son I had lost.

Edward had the typical reaction of the time to my friend's... difference. He was disgusted, appalled.

I was incensed.

"Edward gave his life for us. Like any other fallen soldier, he deserves our respect and admiration, regardless of who he loved," I said. Although my tone was relatively calm, I couldn't hide my anger at him, my disappointment. When the time came to enlist, Edward Carson was one of the first to join- and one of the first to fall in the Great War.

Xxx

"I have to leave, Esme, I just... can't stay here. Especially not when..." His voice trailed to little more than a whisper, the hurt and anger seeping into my ears.

I understood.

Not when Tommy Johnson was getting married.

Not when his parents expected him to get married soon, to have children, to... not be who he was.

"Be careful, Edward, please. It will kill me if..." I couldn't say it. Even though I had no problem wishing my husband- the man I had vowed to love and obey- would never return.

Edward's eyes would flash dangerously every time I winced. I would smile wryly. He would sigh, and I would know what he was thinking. It would never have worked though. Neither of us would be happy if we had married each other, like our parents had half-wished.

Xxx

My baby was the bright spot in the grey life left for me after Charles returned. Edward was dead almost a year. My parents held no love for me through my own doing. My father was indifferent to me after my marriage. I had a husband now- I was no longer his concern. Although my mother and I had been on relatively good terms after my engagement, that changed the first time Charles hit me.

I had been late with dinner.

He had gripped my arm so hard it had bruised. He had shouted and ranted, his spittle wetting my cheek. He had forbade me from eating till the following evening.

She had reprimanded me for telling tales on my husband. She told me it was my fault for being a bad wife.

When visiting after that, I was always sure to conceal my winces, to keep my whimpers of pain at sudden movement silent. If no-one heard them, no-one would ever know I was a bad wife. A sinner, like my best friend.

The time without Charles was blissful. I was lonely, but lonely was better than battered. Better than being reminded of all the ways I was a failure- as a wife, and as a woman.

When Charles had returned from war, I was ecstatic to find I was with child. Finally, something I did right.

Charles was less pleased.

"Knowing you, Esme dear," he had sneered, "It won't last long."

The harsh reminder of the child I had lost caused my heart to seize.

I couldn't lose this one.

Xxx

My tomboy ways had never fully disappeared after I had grown up. I may have stopped climbing trees, but I was never fully content with remaining indoors with only sewing and other such delicate pursuits to occupy me.

I wanted to be a nurse maybe, or a teacher. I thought perhaps I could go west and find adventure. I had relatives in Milwaukee that I knew wouldn't begrudge my request for temporary board.

They were nothing more than idle wishes, though, since my father wanted me to marry.

The first time I was pregnant, I hadn't realised. It was soon after my marriage. I had burned the apple pie- I had never been a very good cook- and Charles had pushed me into the counter.

I started bleeding.

It was months later, after Charles had left, before I realised what had happened. The other ladies were gossiping about Annie Taylor at our weekly tea party.

I had excused myself to weep in my room.

Xxx

I knew that I would never be a good wife, and so it was obvious to me that I would have to leave. I had always been good with children, I knew I would make a good mother.

Selfishly, I didn't want my child to think me a failure too. And if I stayed, I knew that not only would I still be a bad wife, but I would also become a bad mother. Because a mother is supposed to protect her child from monsters, not let them live with one.

Like many other men in our town, Charles enjoyed hunting. With the season upon us I knew it was only a matter of time before he took an extended trip.

I waved him goodbye as he left with his friends. He didn't wave back. When the automobile disappeared, I ran back inside the house to gather my things. I had some money saved, and I had made a bag in which to put some essentials.

I had never truly abandoned my dream of teaching, although I had understood it wasn't a possibility. With my decision made, however, everything that I had once given up as impossible became accessible. I figured if I was going to go against everything the preacher and my parents had ever taught me by leaving my husband, I may as well do something I liked to support myself and my unborn child.

Mrs Catherine Wilson, my second cousin, was delighted to have me stay. She had never left her hometown, and had never met any of her relations other than those that lived nearby. Staying with her was refreshing. We were similar in personality and looks, and it was often commented that we could be sisters. For the first time, I didn't have to lock parts of myself away- I didn't have to worry about failing in the roles thrust upon me.

Cathy had two small children, Harold and Elizabeth. I loved taking care of them and playing with them. They were adorable. Every so often, I would rub my hand comfortingly on my growing stomach and pray that my baby would be like them.

I was a natural with them, Cathy said. She had no doubts that I was going to make a fantastic mother.

Xxx

Carlisle agreed with her. Watching me with Renesmee, he said, was one of the greatest joys of his life. Sometimes we would share a glance, and I knew we were thinking the same thing.

That while we had a family, it wasn't _our_ family.

Xxx

I couldn't stay long with Cathy. My parents discovered my whereabouts, and I knew I had to leave before they dragged me back to Columbus. I left a note for Cathy, and prayed that she wouldn't also think I was a failure. That she would remember me playing with Harry and Bethie and know that I was just trying to be a good mother.

I boarded a train and pointed at a random stop. Ashland. It sounded like a nice place to live. Welcoming. Much friendlier than Columbus.

I was a teacher in Ashland. A widow. Sometimes I wished Charles really was dead.

Sometimes I wished I had never married him.

I wished that the baby I was carrying was another man's. A man with amber eyes and a kind smile.

I fantasised that I was Mrs Cullen instead of Mrs Evanson.

That was the story I told the woman sitting opposite me on the train.

My name is Mrs Esme Cullen, and I am to meet with my husband in Ashland.

Xxx

I didn't know how true that was. I told Carlisle the story as soon as I remembered it. It was the first time I had been on a train since I was changed. It was soon after our marriage, and Edward had gifted us with a honeymoon.

The thirst was more than uncomfortable, but I had my wonderful new husband to distract me from the flames in my throat.

When the couple opposite us engaged us in small talk, I remembered the last time I had travelled by rail.

I told him that night after we made love. Laying in his arms, my back to his chest, I whispered my previous fantasies. Fantasies that were now amazing realities.

Well, with one exception.

Xxx

I worked as a teacher in a small town just outside Ashland. My work was rewarding and fulfilling. I made friends quickly, who felt sorry for the war widow who faced raising her child alone. I didn't feel sorry for myself; I was happier than I had been in years.

Everything in my life had fallen into place, but there was still a shadow that trailed me. My new friends and acquaintances didn't know who I truly was. They didn't know I was a bad wife, a bad daughter. It was easier to come to terms with my past sins, however, when I knew I was doing right by my child. When I knew I was going to make up for it all by being a good mother.

But then, I didn't.

Edward Carlisle Evanson was born the 30th January 1921.

He died of a lung infection the 9th February 1921.

I had failed again.

Xxx

Life never really sticks to our plans. When we returned to Forks after our seven month hell, I couldn't help but compare myself and Carlisle to Edward and Bella.

I like to believe it was fate that Carlisle found me and saved me after everyone else had lost hope.

Bella saved Edward after we had lost hope too. She saves him a little more each day. He doesn't feel like a monster anymore, because an angel like her could never love a monster.

My husband saves me too. With him, I am not a bad wife, a bad daughter, a bad woman. With him, I am Esme Anne Cullen, his beloved.

Not a failure.

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